Was thinking of tracing my family tree – what with my grand father being a shepherd roaming around southen Tamil nadu with his cattle. And this cartoon happened.
Author: Jamshed V Rajan
Jammy, as Jamshed V Rajan is affectionately called, is a wannabe stand up comedian. He has a funny take on most things but documents only some of them. If you are interested in chatting up with him, do drop him an email at jv.rajan@gmail.com or message him at +919650080255.
Presently I am reading a book called “World most notorious murderers, despots and con-men.”
Bought it from Landmark more because it fitted my wallet than my taste. Been reading it for the last one week, and I can already feel murderous tendencies creeping into me.
This book talks of guys who got strangers into their cars, tied them to the seats and then burnt them so that they could feign death and make do with the insurance money. It talks of guys who killed children and sold the meat to make money. It talks of men who threw strangers into vats of sulphuric acid (H2SO4) for their personal belongings. It talks of guys who buried people alive for a few crisp dollars.
I know it is creepy, and that is why I don`t read it in the night. In fact, I read it in the morning, immediately after getting up.
Blame it on my early morning reading, when one’s mind is impressionable (i know coz my father always asked me to get up early and study), I have been having murderous tendencies since.
For example, there were these two ants that ate my whole breakfast. I know you are laughing at the volume of my breakfast, but I am dieting. Anyways, coming back to the two ants, I killed them…rather drowned them.
Today, I brought my that tendency of mine to to office. In fact, I was really scared, that I would end up killing somebody here. Luckily, nothing of that sort happened.
Rajamani did not bother me much. There was no race last Sunday, hence Vinesh was also at a safe distance.
Not to mention, Rekha, who didnot argue about the money I owe her before agreeing to buy me lunch. And of course, Kennedi, who laughed on all my jokes, which kept me in the cool.
As for Kountinya, good that he was busy today…otherwise, he would have got it the moment he started his one of those I-am-better-than-thou speeches. Above all, I should compliment Navneet, who didnot call me at 2617 reporting errors on the Sify Sports home, and escaped sure death.
And as for some in the news team, they sensed my mood and kept themselves away. I tell you, a nose-for-news they may have or not, they sure have a nose for the smell of death.
Talking of the smell of death, I hate the smell of flesh burning. Last time when my mother roasted chicken, I fainted….
Congratulations guys! For those who do not know, the Sify rowing team has come up trumps at the recently concluded annual Corporates Rowing Championship, conducted under the aegis of Madras Boat Club.
They won a couple of firsts, seconds and third places.
When I heard the news, from where I stood (figuratively of course), I could only see the fun filled party that usually follows the championship. I am told it is great fun, and I am sure it is. Pity, I have never been party to it.
It was in 2001, when Kirubha Shankar and Wasim asked me if I wanted to join rowing. In fact they pestered me, for then it was a niche sport. But how could I go to the Madras Boating Club with a worn out Woodlands? I told them, I won`t be able to come coz I did not have a good pair of sneakers. By the time I bought one, the rowing season was over.
In 2002, they didnot call me. I went. I practiced for a while, and I thought I was good too. Dare I blame it one fate, but I didnot get a good partner. Some of the people I rowed with were R Muthukumar, Roshan and Praveen Charlie, who ditched me at regular intervals for more glamourous personalities. Soon, my interest waned, and I dropped out.
In short, I decide to put my leg up and relax. Since then, I have seen these guys wake up at 5.30, reach the Boat Club at 6.30 and row till 8.30 and then make it to office by 9.30 max. I can tell you it is tough.
But then, haven’t we heard the saying – When the rowing gets tough, the tough get rowing 😉
Anyways, coming to the party, I guess next time around the season ending bash should be conducted on a custom built stage in the middle of the lake. Just think about it….there are so many benefits –
1) You don`t need dustbins around, you can just throw anything and everything into the lake.
2) There will be no `groping` in the dark business as all escape routes will be sealed.
3) Bouncers would not be required, for all you need to do is push the culprit into the water.
And here is the killer punch,
4) Theres no need to prepare punch, just dip your glass into the lake and get intoxicated!
Heard of all those MIG crashes? Heres one for all those MIGs that have chose to crashland on the paddy fields, unsuspecting hutments…or for that matter into theatres.
Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon was in India on a four-day visit, recently. When he left a day early, he was seen off at the airport by Minister of State for Human Resources Development Vallabbhai Kathiria, India’s ambassador to Israel R S Jassal and other senior officials. Prime Minister Vajpayee was absent. Here is the story on why he was piqued.
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Movies are communications they say. But today I saw one, and the director failed to communicate anything to me.
The heroine was pretty. The hero was a male version of Preety Zinta – chubby and energetic. And the movie was colorful. But that was all I could gather from the 22 reels showed to me.
When translated into English the movie meant – Two eyes. Ironically, that was exactly what it meant to me – visuals. Mere visuals, and nothing else.
I sat there like a just born baby, just going through the motions. I didnot understand the language being used. The elders went about their job. A few laughed, a few cried, but it meant nothing to me. I was straight faced. Atleast till they announced the interval.
After five minutes of `good time` the movie started again. And again, as was expected, I was ignored.
Luckily, I had not paid for the tickets. Moreover, I was paid Rs 200, to be present for the movie. Actually, I had turned into a mercenary, for I was doing things I didnot like, just for money.
With experience to back the long time belief I had held, I decided not to watch a malayalam movie, until I learnt the language.
But how do I learn the language? I went about asking my friends, and here is the advice as I got it – “Dude, watch a lot of malayalam movies, and in no time you will be able to comprehend the language.”
Yeah, Right!
Man they say was never made for toilets, or is it that toilets were never made for man?
Anyways, here I am not pointing a finger at all the saints who for close to 2-3 minutes give up their Worldly belongings, which more often than not is just some pride and a little bit of shame, and piss on the road side.
I am talking about the guys at home. The innocent one, who cannot even peacefully pee at his house – thanks to all those women who have branded him as a good-for-nothing when it comes to toilets.
Toilets? Yeah, I know there are two types, the Indian & the Western styles. And in this piece we will be briefly touching (not exactly touching) all the types. Sometimes, I wonder if there is a Eastern style of toilets. Perhaps the Japanese have them…but I would never know…
The guys I am talking about are the ones that have atleast two credit cards in their wallet and owe the banks atleast fifty thousand. These are the people who actually work hard (afterall they got to pay back all the bills) and play hard.
Now, the allegation against this breed is that they don`t have toilet manners. I would totally agree, if they said that to me, but haven’t you heard Sandra Bullock telling John Travolta in Look who is Talking that he lacks toilet manners or Sean Connery being chided by Catherine Zeta Jones in Entrapment. And this angers me.
But then, with such high-quality men found wanting in toilet manners, I assume, even George Bush, the most powerful man of the World also leaves his toilet seat up. I say `man` coz if I said `person` where would Mrs Bush fit in?
If there were a reserach on the contribution of a Man in the soiling of a potty, mine would be a classic case.
When I was a kid, my mom censured me for not `shooting` right. She said, the pool of water inside the potty was supposed to be my target. But I never was a great aimsman. And it showed miserably. But if you had asked me then, I would have bet my fat ass that even William Tell would not have got it right.
When I was six, I was a little tall and shooting from the hips came easy. Now, my mother had another set of complaints. She said, I was not flushing. She was right, I was forgetting to flush till I was about twelve years old.
So much so, the room freshners (Odonil is the one we used) were rendered useless. And my sisters, who were well ahead of their times, suggested we use meat-scented air freshners, for they thought only they could make a difference. Now, I hear that such air freshners are on sale HERE.
In a few years, I was in college and worldly wise too. Now, I knew to flush the potty, and was pretty good too. You should see the flamboyance with which I turn the knob. But life has its own ways of balancing. And just when, I was getting even with my mother, my sisters started their bit of complains. They said, I was leaving the toilet seat up.
I tried to reason out with them, telling them that even Bruce Willis does it. It didnot work.
And I saw little reason in fighting it out alone for the whole man-kind. I mean, if the men were not interested in removing the blotch, why should I be concerned. But that does not mean, I put the seat down, I still leave it up.
In fact, sometimes, when I have to avenge something, I don`t aim straight, I dont flush and then leave the seat up! Kinda cute, nahin?
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I want the girl I am going to marry to be pretty beautiful. Actually…… just beautiful enough to fall for me.
Afterall, there is this balance in life where Aishwaryas of the World fall only for the Salmans (it is another thing that later they move on to the Viveks).
Maybe…….she should look pretty only to me, but not for the others. For this will save me from all those goondas who are likely to assault me FIRST because I am the guy accompanying the pretty lady.
On second thoughts, what if my friends feel that the my wife is not beautiful? I will be devastated, for I want them to know that my wife is beautiful.
I am confused.
Also, I am aware of the fact that the chances of divorce in any marriage increases if the lady is beautiful. For then, she gets attention outside of marriage, and as a result has her options open. To cut the story short, it is like working with Sify.com, and yet having an opening in the same capacity, with Rediff.com. To say the least, you start flirting – with danger.
Inference: She should resemble Kennedi G, who works with me. See his picture to get an idea.
But beauty alone is not going to feed us. So, she should be working too. I know. I can understand. You think I am materialistic….but what if, one fine day, my employers come to know that I am a chute and fire me.
If she is working, I will get a regular supply of b’ fast, lunch and dinner. No worries. But then again, what if I she finds somebody else in her office attractive? God save me….I will be devastated…I will be left alone.
Inference: It is enough if she cuts onions.
Should she massage my feet? Now thats a nice question, but I got a good anwer too! Yes, I want her to massage my feet…and in turn I would massage hers. If you want me to spend my life at her feet, I am ready. Just gimme my B’fast, lunch and dinner. And of course small breaks for nature’s calls.
My confusion has increased manifolds because, I do not know where I stand in terms of a girl’s preference. Maybe they find me cute….the Shekar Kapoor way. Maybe, they are after my money (its only the last ten days of a month that I beg).
Maybe, they are after my highly-sexed body. BTW, just in case you didnot know, I hand-le my sex life well. With so many things to look out for in me, one can never tell why girls like me. Rather, one better not tell!